Waiting For You (A Marauders Story) [On Hold]

Chapter 11 - Wishful Thinking

I walked along the silent corridors of Hogwarts with my wand held out in front of me, illuminating the way, and my lip caught between my teeth as I worried at it.

When I had woken up after staying up with James and Sirius, everyone had already left (considering I'd slept through the day, it wasn't that much of a surprise), leaving behind only a note from James. In the note, he had asked that I meet him in one of our empty classrooms so that we could be alone. 

I was Head Girl and he was Head Boy so it wouldn't matter that we weren't in bed, but what worried me was that he wanted to be alone. In a classroom, in the dark, alone with James. 

To say the butterflies in my stomach were rioting would be an understatement. 

My hands, as nervous as I was, were alternating between clenched at my sides, shoved in my pockets, and crossed over my chest. 

As I came up to the final corner between me and the classroom, I heard the sounds of...uh...teenagers spending time together. 

I sighed. Of course. It had to be during the one time I was out that I had to break up a couple of students making out. Well, I'm Head Girl so I still have to send them back to bed - separate beds. 

I sighed once more and rounded the corner, a reprimand on my tongue when it all fell away. 

Instead of finding to faceless students I didn't know, I found James Potter snogging Elletra Vane against outrage portraits. 

"James?" I whispered. 

Neither of them heard her but they certainly heard the thundering footsteps round the opposite corner. 

"JAMES! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Sirius roared before spotting me. "Lily?" 

Finally, James turned to look at me. "Evans?" 

He didn't look the least bit compunctious or penitent, in fact triumph gleamed in his eyes, and something inside me broke. 

A single tear broke the barrier and trickled down my cheek, but before more could follow, a rage I had never felt before broiled to the surface. 

I turned to a portrait of a former professor of Hogwarts, who had been watching the scene unfold with disapproving and repugnant eyes. "Excuse me, Professor Ludwig. I apologise for this intrusion, especially considering the horrendous hour and the nature of this disturbance, but would be so kind as to inform Mr Filch that there are five students out of bed, please? I would not ask such a thing of you normally but I cannot leave them alone for a moment, lest the castle fall around our ankles. Thank you, Professor." 

He nodded, his cold gaze on the five, and walked out of his portrait. I turned to another equally disgusted professor and asked them to inform Professor McGonagall. "Will you ask her to meet us in her office, please? Thank you." 

She too walked away. 

Potter broke away from his newfound interest and turned to glare at me. "What's your problem, Evans?" 

I returned the glare. "My problem is you, Potter." 

He sneered back, "No, your problem is you think you're so damn important and that any guy would follow you anywhere. Well, guess what, Evans, I woke up. I stopped seeing a damned lie and saw you for the shallow bitch you are. I've chosen someone much better than you. Someone who will love me forever. Isn't that right, Sugar Muffins?" 

"Really, Potter?" I ignored the pain of his words (and the bile rising in my throat - really?! Sugar Muffins?!) and rolled my eyes as he buried his head into her neck. "If you've 'woken up', then why is that nightmare hanging off your wrist?"